Sleeping In
by Leesie Love
Summary: COMPLETE. Pen name Change, Formerly Known as GTKari123. He had heard her, and he was scared. He heard her give the smallest of a morning groan and then he heard her voice. “Ron?”


Sleeping In

-Hermione;

Her eyes slid open slowly, unsure of her current location. Violent orange walls greeted her, along with a mild headache. She let out a small groan of pain. What had happened last night? The last thing she really remembered was changing into her pyjamas from her dress robes after an eventful night of joyful tears, great food, and a lot of dancing. She honestly didn't remember anything past changing. She must have just fallen asleep in the nearest bed she could find. That seemed to make sense. Yes. Her head shifted to look at the clock. In its glowing red numbers it read, 'eight twenty-two am.'

"Might as well start the day."

She made a move to get up and out of the warm comfort of the bed, but something seemed to be holding her back. Glancing down, she saw that it was a leg, draped across both of her own, and an arm lying heavily across her stomach. Her eyes widened as she tried to figure out whom these body parts belonged to. She turned her head around and was then face to face with a snoring, frowning red head, who also happened to be bare-chested. Her cheeks coloured.

She sighed. He was defiantly adorable when he slept, but right now, she just really wanted to get up and out of the room to start the after-math-of-a-reception-clean-up. She tried moving his arm off of her stomach. No luck. She tried wiggling her legs out from under his. Eventually, she got her right leg loose.

He moved, tightening his grip on her. Then he let out an unconscious groan, before falling back asleep.

She took this as an opportunity to get him notified of their current situation. "Ron! Wake up."

No reply.

"Come on now, wake up!" she whispered a bit louder. "Ronald! Get up!"

"Mhmm...? Whaddeh wan?" was his reply.

"Ron, you have to let go of me," she said, still struggling slightly.

"'Mione?" he croaked.

She blushed. He didn't call her 'Mione often.

"Yes, Ron, will you please move so I can get up?"

He was awake now. But it didn't mean he still wasn't tired. He let out a groan and tightened his hold on her. "What 'time 'sit?" he asked dazedly.

"Almost eight-thirty," she answered.

"You've gotta be kidding me," he mumbled in disbelief. "What the bloody hell do you want so early in the bloody morning?"

"Well I think it's about time we got up and start the cleaning," she said, a bit too sharply for his liking.

"Hermione, nobody is awake now. Go back to sleep," he said lazily, almost drifting back to his most wanted sleep.

"Ron, we have work to do! The earlier we start, the quicker it'll be done," she said with a yawn and a faint-hearted smack at his shoulder.

"No. You're going back to sleep," he settled simply. "It's too early for you to be up."

"Ron, you can't make me go back to sleep."

He pulled his leg back and flipped her over with the arm he had around her, so that she was facing the pillow. She wasn't going anywhere any time soon.

She was shocked. "What are you doing?"

He wrapped his arms around her middle and once again draped his leg over hers so that she couldn't move them. The two were now both facing the left wall. He nuzzled his head into the back of her neck and mumbled something she couldn't understand.

She felt it though. Her face turned bright pink at the sensation of his lips brushing ever so slightly against her neck. "What did y-you say?" she managed out.

He removed his face from her neck. "Yes I can. Stay. Sleep with me. No one will be up for hours."

Sighing in defeat, she made herself comfy by wiggling out her hands, which were currently at her sides, out and hesitantly placed them atop Ron's.

Ron nuzzled his head back into her neck. "Good. Besides, this could be the last time we get to ever sleep in." he murmured.

She smiled, though rather sadly. He was right. This very well could be the last chance they ever got to sleep in, as they were going with Harry on what seemed to be a wild goose chase in mere days. She should savour the moment. She blushed when she felt Ron's comforting breath wash gently across her neck.

_Ron_. She grinned at the memories they'd shared the night before.

-

_Ron placed his hand in from of her, "May I have this dance?" His smile was wide as she slipped her own hand into his._

"_Of course." _

_They were both a tad bit tipsy from the wine that they'd consumed when people toasted to the new married couple every two minutes. Ron, Harry, and Hermione had all polished off half a rather large bottle of champagne._

_He lead her to the edge of the dance floor, it was currently filled with many people and was quite easy to get lost in. He turned her around from behind her, her hand still intertwined with his own. He placed his unused large hand on her waist, as she lazily placed hers on his shoulder. Hermione smiled shyly as they began to sway slowly to the soft music. _

"_This is nice." She said softly, setting her gaze on his face. _

"_Yep, though m'hand is getting tired." _

_Hermione raised an eyebrow, "Tired? We've only been at it for at least thirty seconds." She answered with a chuckle._

"_I have-ter hold it up!" he retorted, moving his hand up and down, taking hers along for the ride._

_She laughed again. "I'm holding mine up too you know, I'm not bothered by it." _

_Ron smirked. "You're not bothered by it, because I'm holding it up for you, it like I'm holing two hands," he explained._

"_Are you implying that my hand is too heavy for you?"_

"_No! That is not what I'm implying, what I'm implying is that your hand isn't tired, because I'm holding it for you. And sides, you hand weighs like, nothing." He covered quickly. _

_Hermione shook her head smiling. Then a thought occurred to her, they could always dance the muggle way, though she wasn't too sure Ron would go for it, she tinted a very light shade of pink. _

_Ron noticed this and laughed. "What's up?" he asked._

"_Well I was just thinking-"_

_Ron snorted, "When aren't you thinking?"_

_She chose to ignore him, "That if your hand is still that tired, we could always try dancing the muggle way…" she trailed in a quite voice. _

_He raised an eye brow, "Which way's the muggle way?" he asked._

"_Um, okay, well instead of holding our hands up like this," she squeezed his hand lightly, "You put it on my waist." _

"_But I already have a hand on your waist, is the muggle way just simply switching hands then?" he looked at her like she was mad. If the muggle way was to switch hands, they would have done it by now. _

_She blushed. "No Ron, you put both hands on my waist, so they're both just, I don't know, resting there." She said thoughtfully, hoping that he would go for the idea._

"_Where does your free hand go?" _

_She smiled. "On your other shoulder." She replied._

"_So my hand doesn't have to be, er, up like this then?" He said motioning to their hands._

"_No." _

"_Great." He let go of her hand rather quickly and placed it on the other side of her waist, unintentionally pulling the two closer together._

_She took his sudden change of action by surprise, but never the less, rested her palms on the frontal part of his shoulders, her fingertips barley touching the arch for his them._

_He smiled and looked down at her. "Your sooo short, I remember you being taller earlier." He teased._

"_Oh shut up. I know I'm short, and for your information, I was taller earlier this evening, I just took off my shoes to dance."_

"_Why'd you do that?"_

"_They were hurting my feet."_

"_Why didn't you just wear your trainers?"_

"_Ron, it's a wedding! I'm not going to wear my trainers."_

"_So you just decided to wear nothing on your feet at all then?"_

"_I took them off to dance!"_

_Ron chuckled, "I'm just playing with you Hermione, jeez."_

_Hermione blushed and bit her lip. "I know." _

_Ron pulled her closer, resting his chin easily on the crown of her head, his hands now fully encircling her petite waist. Her head was forced into his chest with very little effort. Her smile grew._

"_So, I guess everything's different after tonight huh?" he asked her dimly. _

"_What do you mean?" she asked_

"_I mean tonight's like, the last night we get to be, um, well,-" He started to stutter, the word he was looking for didn't seem to want to escape from his mouth._

"_Normal?" she finished._

_He sighed, "Yeah, normal."_

_She pressed the side of her face into his dress shirt, "I guess. Well in a few days anyways." _

_He fixed his gaze on one of the poles holding the wedding tent up and carefully asked, "Are you scared?"_

_He felt her nod and answer in a small voice, "Terrified. Are you?"_

"_Yeah, I mean we'd be idiots not to be, right?" _

_She gave a watery chuckle, "Yeah."_

"_Oh Merlin Hermione, I didn't make you cry did I?" He asked, pulling her out of his chest._

_She shook her head. "No Ron, you didn't--"_

_Ron cut her off, "I did! I'm sorry Hermione, I shouldn't have—"_

"_You didn't do anything Ron, it's just that, we're leaving everything behind and this might be the last time we ever get time see everyone together li—"_

"_Don't think like that Mione, We're going ter help protect everyone. We're helping Harry save everyone so we will see them again, so we'll always get to see em'." He said in final sort of way. He pulled her back closer to him, so that his left arm completely encircled her waist. Her writs lay over the curves of his shoulders, her fingers frayed over the beginnings of his neck. He used his other arm to wipe away a few stray tears from her face. They were colourful tears and streaked her face beautifully. He smiled._

"_What?" she asked as his fingers wiped away the vibrant tears. _

"_You're make-up is running." He said amusingly. Partly because of the look on her face, and partly because she was wearing make up, she really didn't need it. He continued to wipe off the tears, attempting to clear her face of the makeup as well._

"_Ron, what are you doing?" she asked with a hint of irritation, her eyes now closed as Ron ran his shirt covered thumb gently over her eye lid. _

"_You look better without the make-up." He answered timidly, trying his hardest to ignore the heat creeping up his neck._

"_Really?" Hermione asked in a very hopeful voice. She knew he meant it my the blush that was now taking over his face, and his body temperature had grown a lot more warmer, but she needed to hear him say it. _

"_Yeah, you don't need this rubbish on your face to make yourself look good. Personally I think you're better off without it." He mumbled, as he wiped the last of her eye shadow off._

"_Do you mean that?"_

_He looked down on her and nodded, "Would I lie to you?"_

_They locked eyes with each other as the song ended. Ron bent his head down to hers so that they were touching foreheads. He barely heard her over the loud music that was now blasting from the instruments, "No."_

_He smiled and slid his face upward and placed an affectionate kiss on her forehead. "Good."_

-

She didn't know why, but they had avoided each other for the rest of the night. She was too tired to figure out why they had done so. Instead, she closed her eyes and slowly drifted back to a comfortable sleep, now completely used to Ron's steady blows caressing her neck.

--

-Ron;

He smelled a slightly sweet scent, reminiscent of honeysuckle and smiled. Just like Hermione. He had always liked the way she smelled. For some odd reason, the scent was fairly close to him. Really close, actually. Hermione must be near him, probably coming to wake him up. He sighed silently and waited. He didn't hear any footsteps, yet he could still smell her aroma. Making a funny face he opened his eyes to find Hermione's head, eyes closed, fast asleep, nestled into the crook of his arm. They were both lying on their sides. He panicked. How did she end up there?

He looked further down to find his arms wrapped around her. One arm was lying across her shoulder and the other wound around stomach, her _bare_ stomach to be exact. His eyes widened. What had happened last night? What had they gotten themselves into? This could change their entire relationship completely. How could he have taken advantage of her like that? What kind of a best friend (who, alright, _fancied_ his best friend) was he? She shifted in his arms and that was when he felt it.

Her shirt had somehow rolled itself up, the fabric resting teasingly under her breasts. He let out sigh of relief – she'd kill him if she woke up sans shirt, although, now he looked, it was actually an old Cannons shirt of his. She shifted once again. He had just noticed that she was using the arm he had over her shoulder, as a teddy bear, wrapping her own arms around that one arm. He smiled at her. She was so cute when she slept. Wait. No. he couldn't think that sort of stuff about her. She was his best friend! Best friends don't fall for each other. This brought him to his second point. She would never like him more then a best friend. And if she woke up at this very moment, she probably wouldn't like the situation. He slowly, very slowly ascended his hand upwards along her stomach.

_Why is her skin so soft?_ He thought.

She was awake. Though she didn't open her eyes, they didn't have the will power to do so. She felt something glide slowly up her stomach. It felt good. A smile played on her lips.

"Mmmm."

His hand froze. He had heard her, and he was scared. He heard her give the smallest of a morning groan and then he heard her voice. "Ron?"

He remained quiet. And she repeated his name. This time, he decided to respond.

"Yeah?" it was barley audible.

"Why'd you stop?" she slurred.

A rosy blush began spread across his face.

"S-Sto-p-p what?" he stuttered.

She turned her body around to face him; the hand that was on her stomach was now on her back. The arm she was using as a pillow seemed to have followed her and was curled around her shoulders. She pushed him back into the mattress so that he lied flat on his back. She felt their bodies come onto contact and smiled, laying her head on his shoulder. She gently pulled back the hand that he had on her stomach from behind her, and placed it on her chest, his fingers caressed her neck. Her hand was atop of his. Her other hand lazily pushed his vivid hair out of his eyes.

He was utterly shocked. What was she doing? Was she drunk last night? Was she _still_ drunk? He really didn't have much experience with this sort of thing. Seas of excuses tumbled through his mind. His pink face had now become red.

"This," she said purely, gripping his hand. "What were you doing exactly?" her voice was soft and dazed.

"Um, your shirt was rolled up. I was just, umm, y'know, rolling it down for you," he replied slowly.

"Oh," she said simply. "Why did you stop?" she questioned. She didn't sound like her self; her tone of voice could very well pass for Luna Lovegood's.

His reply was rather hard to understand. He began babbling on, and she smiled. "Could you finish? Rolling it down I mean?" she interrupted.

"Oh. Yeah, sure," he answered nervously. His hand trembled as he started to make his way down her upper body, spreading his fingers to glide in between and over the sides her breasts. She pulled him closer to her by wrapping her arms around his neck, bringing them flush together and let the smallest sound of a groan escape from the back of her throat. His fingers slowly curled underneath her rolled up shirt, gently grazing the undersides of her breasts, savouring the touch. Her skin was so unbelievably soft. He stopped for a moment to hear her moan ever so quietly. He bit down on his lip. Hard. His thumb was gripping the shirt and he carefully unravelled it, moving slowly down her stomach.

"Ron, that feels so incredible," she sighed, eyes fluttering halfway closed. He smiled and ran his hand over her now covered stomach, to smooth it out, placing an innocent kiss in her hair, then, sliding his hand to the small of her back.

She snuggled closer, and fell back asleep.

His idle eyes began to wonder down their current body position. She was nearly on top of him, with her head lazily placed on his shoulder and her hands around his neck. She was once again using a body part of his as a pillow, actually, in this case, an entire bed, not that he was complaining, mind you. One of her legs lay directly atop one of his own, and her other was nestled comfortably in between his. He began to trace unconscious patters on her back, his eyes dangerously close to drifting shut again.

----

Ron's eyes cracked open, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. He had Hermione tucked snug in his arms. His eyes wondered over to the clock. It was a quarter to two.

"Shite. Mum's gonna kill us."

He looked down to the small sleeping mass on top of him. "Hermione? Herrmiiiiionneee?" he stressed. She wouldn't budge. He attempted to move her with his arm, gently shaking her. "Hermione, we have to get up. It's two-o-clock. Hermione, wake up!" He shook her a bit more violently. "God woman! Wake up!" He was getting irritated as per usual.

Hermione moved and let out a soft groan. "What do you want?" She nuzzled her head deeper into the crook of his neck.

"We have to get up, 'Mione, or else someone will find us, and Mum will kill us for not being up earlier." Ron explained, blushing from the warmth that was her breath wash over his neck as she spoke.

"We?" She grunted.

Ron looked down at her. Her eyes were still closed. She had forgotten. He grinned like a mad man. "Yes '_we'_."

"Why '_we'_? You go. I'm too tired." Hermione argued, nudging her face more into his neck.

"Well I would if I could, you know how I hate being on mum's bad side." He said simply as he could.

"If you could? Ron, don't be stupid. Just because I'm not getting up, doesn't mean you can't." She protested. The volume of her voice rose slightly.

The blush was starting to fade as he got more used to the feel of her breath caressing his neck. "Well if you wake up we could untangle ourselves and then, if you really want, you could go back to sleep." He said calmly.

"Untangle?" She questioned.

Ron smirked. "Open your eyes 'Mione."

Her eyes slid open. She gave a loud gasp.

Tangled was a good way to put it. Her right arm was trapped under his back, while her other arm was snaked around the back of his head. Ron's right arm was lying lazily over her back, his fingers tickling the back of her neck. His left arm was stuck at his side; Hermione's arm had trapped it, as hers disappeared behind his back. Their legs were utterly a tangled mess and only a puzzle master could figure whose leg lead where.

Her face burned. She gave a small, "Oh."

Ron bit his lip. She was adorable. "Yeah," he said, still smirking slightly. "So will you at least get up for a minute?" He let his index finger lazily trace the pattern of her face, which was a pretty shade of pink at the moment. She shivered slightly as it grazed her cheek.

"Yes," she murmured. "Yes, I suppose we should, er – get up, then?"

"That's what I've been trying to tell you," he grinned.

She remained quite, her face was growing a darker shade of pink as she slid her hand out from behind his neck and placed it on his chest. "I think this can work if you sit still and I umm, well-"

"Okay." He cut in. He lay still as he felt her move against him. In a few quick motions they were completely untangled. Hermione sat up, and started out of Ron's room.

"Hermione?" He called her back.

"What, Ronald?" She wasn't exactly in the mood to talk to Ron at the moment.

"You can't exactly go downstairs to Ginny's room wearing _that_."

She looked down. He was right. She was wearing what she'd blearily chosen as 'pyjamas' the night before. Clearly, she had been either too befuddled from the consumption of alcohol, or else just too tired to go down to Ginny's room and get her real night things, because she was wearing a pair of very short pair of women's Joe boxer shorts that she had worn under her robes and an old shirt of Ron's that fully hid them. She blushed.

"Give me your pants," she said sharply to Ron. He raised his eyebrows. "Not the ones you're wearing, idiot!"

"Oh, right." He got out of bed and began rummaging through his dresser. "Here." He handed her an old pair of boxer shorts. Her cheeks flourished into a scarlet colour, but she put them on anyway. "You might want this too." He added, picking up her dress from the floor and handing them to her. She smiled thanks, and took them, and then she began to stalk quickly out of his bedroom again.

"Hermione?"

"What now?"

He crossed the room in three long strides and kissed her quickly on the corner of her mouth. "I'll see you later."

She positively dashed out of his room, leaving him standing there, smirking after her. Once outside, she leaned against the wall to catch her breath. She certainly would see him later, and only Merlin knew what would happen then.


End file.
